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Chap. BX IZ.^-^ 

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UNJTED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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DR. PAINE'S 



QXJi^RTER-CEISrTTJIlY 



SERMON. 




S E R M O N 



PREACHED BY 




REV. WILLIAM P. PAINE, D. D, 



PASTOR OF THE CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH IN 



HOLDEN, MASS., 



On the TwENTY-riFTH Anniversary of His Settlement^ 
October 24, 1858. 




WORCESTER: 
PRINTED BY EDWARD R. FISKE 

printers' exchange, - - rOSTEB STREET. 

1859. 



rr 






[CORRESPONDENCE.] 

Rev. Wm. P. Paine, D. D., 

Dear Sir : — At a meeeting of the members of your Society, the under- 
signed were chosen a Committee to request, for publication, a copy of the 
Sermon delivered by you, on the twenty-fifth anniversary of your settlement in 
Holden. NEWELL MOORE, 

CYRUS CHENERY, 
D. F. PARMETER. 



Dea. Newell Moore, Cyrus Chenert, Esq., D. F. Parmeter, Esq., 

Gentlemen : — If the Sermon to which you allude merits any measure of 
the consideration which my friends are pleased to give to it, by requesting a 
copy for publication, it must result from its historical and statistical features. 
Thinking that such records may have some local interest and value now and 
hereafter, I will comply with the request. 

Yours with great respect, 

WM. P. PAINE. 



SERMON. 



Acts xxi: 19. " When he had sainted them,, he declared 
particidarly what things God had tvrought among the 
Gentiles by his ministry.^^ 

It was not a spirit of boasting which induced Paul to give a 
historical sketch of his labors.. He felt that it was due to God 
thus to recognize his goodness. Divine mercies demand gratitude ; 
and sometimes the emotions should have o, form^al expression — - 
should be out-spoken. When Paul returned to Jerusalem, after 
laboring in the regions round about, there Avas peculiar propriety in 
"declaring particularly what things God had wrought by his min- 
istry." It is well for Pastors to keep a minute record of what 
transpires among their own people, and occasionalljr publish it in 
their presence. If a divine influence blesses pastoral service, God 
should be honored by the publication of the record ; and what there 
is of wrong and infirmity should be applied for admonition and 
improvement. 

Strange feelings come over me as I stand here, preaching a 
Quarter of a Century Sermon. I think of my state and emotions 
in contrast with what they were twenty-five years ago to-day, when 
standing in the sa^me place. Scarcely anything then appeared more 
improbable, than that my pastoral relation to this church would 
continue to this time. It did not, indeed, then seem to me that I 
should now be in the land of the living. I had just come from the 
schools, where I had been cloistered, as pupil and teacher, for more 
than twelve years, and my health was much impaired. It was for 
years exceedingly fatiguing to perform the regular Sabbath service. 
It is now quite difierent. Few ministers, probably, feel less weary 



than I now do, at the close of these exercises. For this exceedingly 
great change in the power of phjsic?J endurance — and quite 
unusual change — for generally it is in the opposite direction, I feel 
that I am bound, on this occasion, to render thanks to God, 

Another circumstance which forbade the anticipation of a pro- 
tracted ministry here, was the prevailing custom to have frequent 
changes in the pastoral oiSce. It did not seem probable that I 
should be an exception to so common a rule, especially, as there had 
not been, for some months, so much harmony of feeling and action 
in the church and society as has generally marked your course. 
But whatever breach there was which seemed to bear a threatening 
aspect, soon appeared to be healed, and the sequel has fully proved 
that this peo].le are not fickle nor ungenerous, nor hard to be 
pleased in regard to their ministers. 

Thus I stand before you to-day, so contrary to the slightest 
anticipation, to rehearse some of the incidents of interest and value 
which signalize a ministry of one quarter of a century. 

My mind is deeply sensible of change. It is seen everywhere — 
marks everything. I have, indeed, an audience before me of 
familiar countenances, who are my own people, and whom I 
fervently love. But it is not, to a great extent, the congregation 
on whom m.y eyes rested with interest and diffidence, when, on the 
first Sabbath of January. 1833, I, for the first time, entered this 
pulpit. No ! it is not the church, it is not the people — with few 
exceptions — over which I was installed on the twenty-fourth day of 
October, 1833. I look for those venerable fathers, — scarcely one is 
left. I look for those brothers who were the active men of that day, 
and the stable pillars, — how few do I see ! I look for the dear 
little children, — but I scarcely know them they are so changed! 
Then, they were small, careless, fearless of evil, playful, hopeful. 
Now, many of them are among the fathers and mothers, perhaps 
burdened with care and anxiety and labor. Their countenances 
already bear the impress of the stern realities of life. 

Many things in my ministry remind me that one generation 
goeth, and another cometh, and that my pastorate is becoming quite 
venerable. The Sabbath following my ordination, an infant was 
presented for baptism. Nearly nine years since she stood before me 
in bridal attire. About three years since, a couple called at my 



house, to be joined in marriage. They were strangers. The joung 
lady observed that she had a particular desire that I should perform 
the marriage service, because I married her parents. It was an 
instructive memorial of the progress of time and things. The first 
couple I married are present on this occasion, and I associate with 
them an aflecting incident. Tv/o years since, I saw their first-born, 
a daughter, at tlie a-e of twenty years, droop and die i Surely 

" Time is Avinging us awaj ! " 

A few statistical f\icts will show that there has been unusual 
permanency in the pastoral office here. There are, in Massachu- 
setts, 480 Congregational churches. Only about twenly pastors of 
these churches have continued in their present fields of labor so long 
as I have been here. This church was organized December 22, 
1742, having existed nearly one liundred and sixteen years, during 
which time it has had but four pastors, — two of whom have rested 
rom their labors, and their ashes slumber in yonder venerable 
cemetery. The third is now actively engaged in pastoral labor 
»nthin the bounds of our own County. 

The first pastor, Rev. Joseph Davis, was ordained December 22, 
1742, and dismissed Januarv. 1773, filling the pastoral office about 
hirty years. The second pastor. Rev. Joseph Avery, was ordained 
December 21, 1774. and held the pastoral office till his death, which 
iccurred March 5, 1824, the duration of his ministry being nearly 
ifty years. Rev. Horatio Bardwell, D. D., was installed October 
22. 1823, and dismissed by the Council which ordained your present 
pastor, October 24, 1833, his ministry being about ten years. 

It thus appears that the only time that the church has been 
destitute of a pastor was from January, 1773, to December, 1774, 
less than two years. Such a record in relation to the pastoral office 
could be found in but few churches. 

This church and society constituted the only religious organiza- 
tion that existed in this town for more than fifty years. About 
fifty years since, the Baptist church was formed. These two 
religious bodies, have, generally, I believe, had a tolerably good 
understanding with each other, and as much christian fellowship as 
existing rules relating to communion will permit. We cannot but 



hope, and believe, that the time will come Avhen every bar to the 
freest communion will be removed. 

If I were to speak in detail of those who preceded me in the 
ministry, I should feel constrained to use terms of high commenda- 
tion. They were good m.en, and earnest and successful ministers 
of Jesus Christ. I feel indebted, in no small deo-ree, for mv own 
peaceful and happy relations to you, to their wisdom and fidelity. 
I have often felt that other men labored, and I have entered into 
their labors. Much of my reaping was their sowing. 

But the proprieties of the occaeion demand more specific reference 
to my own ministry. I exceedingly regret that it has not been less 
imperfect, and more abundant in good fruit. 

It is not inappropriate to refer to the peculiarities of the times 
which this period embraces. A distinctive feature has been intense 
public excitement. During no twenty-five consecutive years since 
the settlement of this country, has there been such earnest conflict 
of opinion and purpose Never have social and political elements 
been so long in such violent commotion. Reform has been the 
watch-word. The two immense moral evils — Intemperance and 
Slavery — have been resolutely attacked, and persistently defended. 
The strife hgs shaken the nation, and every part of it. These 
battles have been fought side by side, beginning about the same 
time, and, perhaps, having made about the same progress. They 
began to wax warm about the time of my ordination. Till about 
this time, little wa.s said, or cared, by the masses, in regard to 
intemperance or slavery ; but at this time the struggle had begun in 
good earnest. Communities were moved to their foundations. The 
first efiect was great social animosity and alienation. This place 
was, probably, agitated as much as most others. The struggle then 
initiated, has not yet ceased, though it has less social asperity. It 
will not cease till there are more decisive victories on one side or the 
other. There are, doubtless, different opinions as to the measure of 
success, and the side to which it belongs. I have no question but 
that the degree of success has been great, and that, in each conflict, 
it has been on the right side — the side of temperance and freedom. 
These gigantic evils have spread their roots wide, and cast them deep 
into social, political and religious relations, and there is no hope of 
their being eradicated without a long and desperate struggle. If 



Satan is to be victorious, then intemperance and slavery and other 
moral evils may successfully resist the appliances which truth and 
righteousness are wielding against them. But if Christ is to reign, 
the hard battle now being fought will surely end in victory for the 
right. 

In a conflict with such stupendous evils, it would be unreasonable 
to expect of the friends of virtue and equity no lack of wisdom in 
words or measures. But after due abatement on the score of 
prudence, incalculable good has already been done. Systems of 
Reform have been initiated, whose good ^results will doubtless be 
more apparent the next quarter of a century, than even during the 
past. These children should be taught by all who exert an influence 
in their training, not to sulFer the intoxicating cup to come near 
their lips ; and, also, to hate oppression with perfect hatred. 

Another striking feature of the period under review, is great and 
sudden changes in business transactions, and, consequently, in social 
relations. At the time of my settlement, steam-power had been but 
little applied to locomotion on land. No lines of steamships were 
then crossing the ocean. Railroads, telegraphs and steamships, now 
running in every direction, have, within these few years, not only 
given a new impulse to business, but, in many cases, have entirely 
changed its channels. New places have suddenly sprung up, as by 
magic, and many old settlements have been materially injured. 
This has set emigration — not foreign, but domestic ^ — in rapid and 
confused motion. Formerly, men reared up families to settle around 
them. At least, enough remained to occupy the homestead. What 
a change ! Few can now persuade a son to settle on their farms, 
and so the pleasant homestead must go out of the family, as a sort 
of nuisance to be got out of the way. This breaking up and 
emigration has essentially weakened many old religious societies. 
It has taken away much of their vitality and support. It is so with 
us. A large number of young men and women of ability and 
enterprise have gone from us within twenty-five years. Some, 
probably, to their advantage ; and some, doubtless, to their injury. 

I make this reference, not to complain, nor to suggest counter- 
acting measures. Perhaps it is best that it should be so. But in 
reviewing our history, it is proper to refer to this remarkable state, 
which has been so largely the result of the peculiarities of the last 



8 

twenty-five years. Were it otherwise, many influential men and 
women now absent, would be important members of this community. 
You who remain have a burden to bear, which, but for this 
circumstance, would not press so heavily upon you Yet it may be 
a question, whether, on the whole, you are seriously injured by the 
change. 

But while we speak of loss by emigration, wc should not fail to 
notice that we have also gained material strength by the same cause. 
Individuals and families of great worth and influence have come 
among us, and are generously helping to sustain institutions of 
education and religion. 

Though we cannot speak of enterprise and enlargement like many 
places, yet things have not been retrograde, nor altogether stationary. 
There are about eighty-five dwellmg-houses in the Centre District, 
about fifty of which have been erected since my settlement, and 
others have been materially improved, besides the erection of a 
Meeting-house, a Town-house and a School-house. In other parts 
of the Town there has also been much improvement. 

Educational interests have received a commendable degree of 
attention. Some sixteen have received a college education since 
about the year 1790. Six members of this church have entered 
the gospel ministry since my settlement, five of whom are now 
engaged in actual service, one having ceased from his earthly labors. 
Five members of this church have, within this period, gone on 
foreign missions, one of whom has died, and two of whom are with 
us on this occasion. I have united seven females of this church in 
marriage to clergymen, five of whom are now supposed to be living. 

Though there has been little in our history in the period under 
review, exhibiting marked peculiarities in Providence, there has been 
much of great local and individual interest. Common providences 
have great significance in personal experience. When the funeral 
procession passes along the street, you may regard it but a common 
event, and scarcely trouble yourself to inquire who is dead. But 
somebody knows who is dead, and will always be able to tell the 
year, the month, the day, and the manner that death came. There 
is somebody following that sable hearse, not so heedless as you are. 
You may run your eye over the catalogue of deaths which have 
occurred in this place, and, for a while, feel little interest. But 



your attention is finally arrested ; your eye is fixed, fi)r it has fallen 
on a precious name; — a companion, or child, or parent, or brother, 
or sister. Now, there is serious significance in that record — not 
that there is any peculiarity — but your individual self is afiected. 
Almost every starred name would awaken such interest in some 
mind. Death always keeps a portion of the community in deep 
weeds. I have always seen moui-ners here. Sometimes they have 
been on my right hand, and sometimes on my left. I have seen 
both the aged and the young in deep sorrow- I have seen the 
manly and stalwart form bow itself into the dust in grief, and the 
strongest nerves surrender. One such scene passes, only to give 
place to another. Thus has my ministry been marked, and most 
solemn has been the impression. 

Very small, proportionally, is the number of dwellings in the 
Town over whi^h the pall of death has not rested in the last 
twenty-five years. A great amount of life and hopes has been 
destroyed in these grievous visitations. There is not a domestic tie 
which has not been often sundered. There is scarcely a conceivable 
expectation which has not been cut off. How few of this adult 
community but have gone as mourners to the grave ! 

The number of deaths in Town, in twenty-five years, is seven 
hundred and eighty-six, averaging thirty-one and a fraction annually. 
The largest number was in 1854, when it was forty-five. The 
smallest number was in 1841, when it was twenty-one. When I 
came among you there was an unusually large number of aged 
individuals in the place, especially in the southern section. There 
were those advanced in life in almost every dwelling. Within the 
period under review, there has been a large mortality among this 
class. One hundred and thirty-eight have died over seventy years 
of age, seventy-three over eighty, and fourteen over ninety. In 
our present population the number that have attained to a great age 
is not large. In many of the deaths which have occurred, I may 
be permitted to say that I have felt a deep personal bereavement. 
Among them are precious kindred, and also many others, endeared 
by long and confidential intimacy, and to whose friendship and 
counsel I am indebted for a large amount of social enjoyment. 
Never can I expect to find friends so dear as have gathered around 
me here, many of whom have already gone to their rest above. 

2 



10 

The record of death's doings is soon rehearsed. But the results, 
— have the J ceased to be felt ] Ask those whose tears are their 
meat and drink in the house of their pilgrimage ! What floods of 
grief have flowed in these eight hundred distinct gushings ! How 
sudden and startling some of these deaths have been, I must forbear 
to describe. Some of you know too well. Nor may I attempt to 
measure the domestic peace and public good which have been lost. 
The memorial is in many a heart. Among the departed are 
enrolled the influential and worthy citizen, the respected civilian, 
the earnest teacher and the beloved physician. We clung to them 
as with a death-grasp. But the strong hold was severed, for when 
God requires, the living must die. 

I have no fancy for personal allusions, and if it did not seem to 
be required, by the present occasion, that something should be said 
of myself in pastoral relations, I should much prefer to turn 
attention in other directions. But I cannot well communicate all 
that seems to be required without giving more prominence to self 
than accords with my taste. 

This is the first and only place that I ever preached as a candidate 
for settlement. I was invited here soon after graduation at Andover 
Theological Seminary. Rev. Dr. Bardwell was still pastor, though 
he had closed his labors here some months previous. It was 
arranged that I should commence preaching on the first Sabbath of 
January, 1833. I came into the Town, for the first time, on 
Saturday evening. 

You will not deem it strange that I should have felt somewhat 
diffident and awkward in standing before an assembly to be criticised, 
bodily and mentally, — as I well knew I must be, for I was a 
candidate, and must be examined something as men look at the 
properties of a horse. Doubtless many shrewd remarks were made 
about the young candidate on the eve of that memorable first 
Sabbath, not all of which, I apprehend, would have been regarded, 
by himself, as very flattering to his vanity. 

I preached, at that time, six Sabbaths, during which period I 
obtained considerable information respecting the condition of the 
church and society, which did not seem to indicate a very quiet and 
prosperous state. I think I shall not be unjust, to say that there 
was a high state of angry excitement in regard to Temperance, 



11 

This was a point on which the candidate was considerably catechised 
by divers individuals. A member of the church called on me as X 
was about to leave, and said he should like to have me settle here if 
I was right on the subject of temperance. I thanked him for his 
favorable consideration, and replied that I trusted I was right on 
this exciting subject ; at any rate, I was a decided friend of the 
cause. But, said he, if you are settled here, shall you preach upon 
it? I said, I presume I shall, whether settled here, or elsewhere, 
for I regard rum-drinking an immense moral evil, and the pulpit a 
very suitable place to expose it. But, he continued, shall you say 
that one who drinks a little is as bad as a drunkard ? I replied, I 
presume I shall not say just so; but I may say this, that his 
influence on the community around may be much worse than that of 
the most inveterate sot. He went away, apparently not very well 
satisfied. Whether he voted for or against my settlement, I do not 
know. Something may be inferred from this incident, in relation to 
the public mind on the subject of temperance. There was great 
excitement and personal asperity of feeling. 

After preaching six Sabbaths, I left the place, with little expecta- 
tion of returning. In a short time I received an invitation from 
the church and society to become their pastor and minister. In 
consideration of the agitated state, the large field to be cultivated, 
I declined to accept the call. I knew little more of the condition 
of affairs here till the following autumn, when the invitation was 
renewed, which, after much hesitation and counsel, I accepted. 

The day of my ordination was pleasant, and the assembly large. 
An elder brother, who died about three years after, while pastor of 
the church in West Boylston, preached the sermon. My retiring 
predecessor. Dr. Bar dwell, gave me the charge. I thought that if 
he had borne the burden he placed on me, he must feel much relief 
in throwing it off. 

At this time, I was wholly inexperienced in the sorrow of losing 
friends by death. But, as if I might be taught the bitterness of 
this kind of afiiiction, that I might be better fitted to "weep with 
them that weep," I was soon smitten with stroke upon stroke, till 
my cup of sorrow seemed full. Of family relations, I have lost, 
since my settlement, father, mother, two brothers, one sister, four 
brothers-in-law J two sisters-in-law, and three children. These 



12 

death-shafts have produced an effect, and, I hope, not altogether 
valueless. 

Our eldest child, Sarah Louisa, died June 20, 1840, at the age 
of about four years, after a sickness of two years. Our second 
child, William Frederic, died September i-3, 1851, after a distress- 
ing sickness of four days, at the age of twelve years. Our youngest 
child, Charles Pomeroy, died January 20, 1854, after a sickness of 
two days, at the age of nearly three years. These cups were 
very bitter, but they were given us by our Heavenly Father. 

Although, during the first halt* of my ministry, I was much of 
the time in a feeble state of health, there have been but few Sabbaths 
but that I have attended public worship. I have had but one 
protracted sickness, which was three jenjs since, commencing in 
August. I did not preach for four months. Since my recovery, 
my health has been much better than before. 

I have preached about two thousand seven hundred and fifty 
sermons ; administered the Lord's Supper one hundred and forty- 
five times; attended about six hundred and twenty-five funerals; 
administered two hundred and forty-seven baptisms ; received three 
hundred and fifty-five into the church ; solemnized two hundred and 
fifty-seven marriages ; served as chairman of the school committee 
twenty-four successive years ; made about seven hundred visits in 
schools, and pastoral and social visits — no one can tell how many : 
not half so many as some have thought I ought, but about as many 
as you would have found time and strength to make if you had been 
in my place. I have never regarded it irksome to visit you, and 
partake of your generous hospitalities. It is not half so fatiguing 
to mind or body, as to be shut up in the study, preparing for your 
Sabbath entertainment. But no people would long be satisfied, nor 
should they be, with scanty and poor fare in the sanctuary, even 
though the minister should visit them six days out of seven. You 
have generally been forbearing and liberal in this regard; and I 
have endeavored to consider whatever may have had the semblance 
of complaint for no more visiting, as rather complimentary, than in 
the light of censure. We shall continue, I trust, to get along very 
well on this rather nice point, as we always have. I shall do the 
best I can, and you will be kindly indulgent, and so we shall have 
no serious difficulty about more frequent visiting. 



13 

In DO part of mj pastoral work have I labored with so much 
solicitude and satisfaction, as in rerivals. I came here with the 
firm conviction that revivals ^voulkl be God's principal instrumentality 
to enlarge the church. When oidiiined, I felt that I must be 
satisfied with nothing less than frequent out-pourings of the Holy 
Spirit. In this we have been much blessed. There have been nine 
distinct seasons of revival during my ministry. The first was in 
the spring following my ordination, in 1834 ; the second was in the 
autumn of 1836 : the third in the winter and spring of 1838 ; the 
fourth in the winter of 1841 ; and the fifth in the winter and spring 
of 1843. This was followed by a period of seven years of spiritual 
dearth. It was a period exceedingly trying to religious faith, I 
sometimes almost despaired of ever seeing another convert. The 
heavens vrere as brass, and the earth as powder. It was so, not 
only here, but almost everywhere. But in process of time the Lord 
turned our captivity. In the spring of 1850, we enjoyed another 
season of refreshing from on high. The next, and seventh, revival 
was in the spring of 1851. The eighth in the winter and spring of 
1856. The ninth commenced near the close of 185T, which, I 
trust, has not yet ceased. There is little danger of attaching too 
great importance to these seasons of God's gracious visitation. 
With all the extraordinary drainage there has been to this church 
during the period under review, what must have been our present 
state if there had been no revivals here ! Few have been added by 
profession except the fruits of these out-pourmgs of the Spirit. 
We need a constant revival. In other words, we need an unceasing 
application of those spiritual instrumentalities and forces which are 
so vigorously employed by the friends of Christ when the Holy 
Spirit is poured out from on high. Then would Zion's borders be 
continually enlarging, and the dominion of Satan as rapidly dimin- 
ishing. 

It is due, on this occasion, to notice some of the influences which 
have conspired to render my condition here peaceful and agreeable, 
and which have contributed essentially to the success of the ministry. 
However unworthy I may have been of your confidence, you have 
always made me feel that I possessed it. This has greatly strength- 
ened me in the performance of duty, and especially, when it has 
been of a delicate nature. You have suifered me to pursue my 



14 

way, according to my own sense of propriety. It would, indeed, be 
great presumption in me to entertain the belief that thii indulgence 
has been allowed me because my course has alv/ays been in harmony 
with your judgment. But there may have been less evil in enduring 
this imperfection of mine, than in conflicts in matters of opinion and 
form. 

You have permitted me, without interference, to preach pointed 
truth, in a plain manner. When you may have thought that the 
coat was fitted to your own person, if you have complained much, it 
has not come to my ears. 

I have always had frood Deacons, who have attended to their 
own official duties, and left the pastor, unmolested, to attend to his, 
— a luxury which Qvavy minister does not enjoy. 

The orchestra has uniformly been in harmony with the pulpit, — 
another luxury which all ministers do not enjoy. I venture the 
declaration, that, during these twenty-five years, there never has 
been an unkind feeling between this end of the meeting-house and 
that. When the music is good, as I am happy to say it generally 
has been, the pastor is inspired with great pleasure. And when, for 
any reason, there is lack of harmony in strings or pipes or voices, 
as in the nature of the imperfection which characterizes all that is 
earthly, there will sometimes be, the pastor deeply sympathizes in 
the regret which he knows is keenly felt by the choir. And so, he 
trusts, it IS on their part, in respect to good and poor preaching, — 
feeling deeply sensible that the poor is much oftener at this end pf 
the sanctuary than at that. It costs much money, labor and time, 
and even mortification, on the part of the choir, to sustain singing in 
the House of God. And I am quite confident in the belief that few 
choirs have performed this highly important service more acceptably 
and with greater harmony, than it has been done by this choir, 
during the period under review. 

You have had a considerate and kind regard to the necessities and 
comfort of your pastor. You have provided means, not to enrich 
him, but to enable him, with careful economy, to live. When the 
stipulated salary has been insufiicient to meet the demand, you have 
made increased provision. 

In educational, social and pastoral relations, you have suffered me 
to come very near you. By the way-side, in your school-houses, in 



15 

chambers of sickness, in funeral obsequies, and in all your afflictions 
and griefs, you have invited me to the freest intercourse. And in 
our severe bereavements and dissolving grief, you have come very 
near to us, — to our desolate dwelling and mourning hearts, and 
permitted and constrained us to feel that we dwelt among our own 
people. Such expressions of mutual affection, such a flow of social 
and spiritual sympathy, such bonds of earthly and heavenly influ- 
ences, could not fail to prepare the way for peace and profit in our 
mutual relation. Such ties and intercourse could not fail to render 
you exceedingly dear to my heart. You have my first love, and 
the love of an undivided heart, knowing no other church, no other 
people, as its own. It is a union dearer than any on earth, save 
the domestic. It is something like it. "When you prosper, my joy 
is like that of a father for the success of a child ; when you are in 
trouble, I grieve ; when the people die, I am a mourner, — / lose a 
parent, or child, or brother. It is pleasant to feel that when the 
time shall come that we must separate as pastor and people, we shall 
be employed in something more agreeable than explaining and 
settling difficulties that have disturbed our peace. May the future 
be as the past in mutual confidence and love. 

Although the occasion is so suggestive of tender reminiscences and 
thoughts yet untouched, that I would gladly continue my words, 
time admonishes me that I must close. I have felt the more inclined 
to enlarge, in the confident belief that I shall not see another such 
occasion. One of your pastors, did, indeed, serve you very nearly 
fifty years. But I cannot regard it in the slightest degree probable 
that I shall do it. It is quite wonderful that I have been with you 
half that time ! 

No ! I shall not again preach a Quarter of a Century Sermon, 
here, or anywhere else. Some of you, twenty-five years hence, will 
probably be here. But you will see another form before you, and 
hear another voice. This is, indeed, somewhat affecting to me. 
Yet, it does not produce half the solemnity as the question, what, 
shall be the result, on you, and on myself, of the portion of my 
ministry already passed, and of labor I may yet perform. It is not 
the length of life which should excite solicitude, but how the life 
is spent. I must meet you, and you must meet me, at the 
Judgment. I must give an account of my watchfulness and labors, 



16 

as your shepherd, and you must give an account of your reception 
of God's messages of grace and love sent you by his ministers. 
How sacred the relation ! How solemn the account ! 

I feel glad, heartily glad, that this is not a "Farewell Sermon," 
that words of parting are not now to be spoken, that we may 
continue, still longer, our journey Heaven- ward together, in the 
relation of pastor and people. May it be our anxious purpose, in 
all our remaining mutual service, to aid and improve each other in 
all that is holy and good. 



,H 



LA 



yy^\ 



L'BRARY OF CONGRESS 



021 898 840 4 




